


no wedding bells for today

by Karturtle (karturtle)



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Ghost Dave (Umbrella Academy), M/M, guess whos back baby!!!!, klaus is leaning hard into the cowboy aesthetic, lets address some of those loose ends in season two shall we, major spoilers for season two, post season two, some angst. a lot of cowboy-based introspection and rambling.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:01:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25681702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karturtle/pseuds/Karturtle
Summary: Klaus loves his cowboy hat, and his dead boyfriend is now a Marine who isn't his boyfriend.
Relationships: Dave/Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 20
Kudos: 252





	no wedding bells for today

Klaus had really clung to the Texan thing.

The whole aesthetic was kind of great, honestly. He was sitting at a desk with his genuine leather boots kicked up in the new ‘Team Zero’ apartment- a shithole excuse of a safehouse, big enough for all six of them, that Five and Allison secured in this fun new version of 2019 where The Umbrellas didn’t exist and The Sparrows were the new crime fighting kids on the block. 

Good for them, honestly. Klaus sure as hell wasn’t going to do it. And everyone else seemed pretty fed up with the whole ‘saving the world’ gig, too. Nope, those assholes could handle it.

(Even if he missed the hell out of Ben and it killed him, knowing he - or someone just like him - was only a few miles away, putting himself in danger again and again. But he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Diego and Five were doing some quality bonding as they stalked the hell out of the Sparrows. And all six of them avidly watched the news on their shitty little secondhand TV set, looking to see what the Sparrows were up to in their crime fighting. They’d all probably be pulled back into the action eventually.)

His black cowboy hat was tilted down over his face as he rocked himself back and forth on the desk chair with his heels, humming an old country song as he waited on his family to return with dinner. He was planning on pulling out some finger-guns and holding a good ol’ fashioned stickup when they walked through the door. 

Anything for the dramatics and a good laugh from his family in these disturbing times. He was strongly considering getting some spurs to jingle-jangle-jingle around the apartment to annoy and entertain with. But he didn’t know exactly how one found those that far, far away from the south in a time when people didn’t really jab horses with studded metal heels anymore. But they were sick as hell, and he wanted a pair just for kicks(heh).

Look, he lived in Texas for a good chunk of his three years in the past and he had literal cowboys haunting him the whole damn time. And when you got past the blood and gore from their untimely deaths, they had some pretty damn good looks going on. And ghost-wise, some of them weren’t that bad, to be honest. 

Turned out a lot of cowboys were, one: Not as white as every old fashioned western made him believe, and two: pretty gay for their cowboy partners. Brokeback Mountain was still alive and well in the 1900’s, kiddos. Hell, he met two or three trans cowboys, and a couple crossdressers that just wanted to either tend to actual cows, raise hell, or gun people down for the sake of justice. He could get behind that.

Some had a surprising amount of dignity, too, compared to the more unsavory ghosts he tended to attract. In their minds, if you died in a shootout in the middle of a town’s square, well, fair’s fair. They did tend to haunt the relatives of the criminals that killed them, but Klaus figured that was fine. No harm, no foul, and they weren’t too pissed at Klaus unless they were the homophobic-dickhead brand of southern.

Man, he missed his cowboy posse. They died some gruesome deaths, but they were pretty ride or die. 

(He wished Ben was there. That ‘ride or die’ comment would’ve gotten an eyeroll and probably a gentle smack to the head for being a terrible, terrible joke)

Anyways, the point was, he earned the cowboy hat and he was rather attached to it. He also really stuck to some southern mannerisms- partially out of habit, partially to annoy his siblings. Sometimes his southern drawl really got on Vanya’s nerves, reminding her too much of her time on the farm, but she could throw things at him with her mind now so it was even-stevens.  And Allison still shot him a scathing glare every time he said the words ‘bless your heart’ in a sickly sweet, patronizing accent. But she knew more than enough about his time quoting Beyonce to hippies to get back at him properly. 

He really liked family bonding and teasing, now that they actually knew how to do it without brutalizing each other.

“Er..”

Klaus flinched and groaned, pushing his head back and fully covering his face with the cowboy hat. Fucking ghosts sneaking up on him. Earlier, he may or may not have had a few shots of the very expensive whiskey collection Five was collecting - gotta keep up the cowboy theme - and so his awareness with his ghosts wasn’t quite where it could’ve been. But now that he was paying attention, there was a distinct feeling in his chest. A tether of sorts, the ghost leeching off his powers so they could say their piece or scream or something.

“If you want to be sent into the light, we’re fresh out.” Klaus drawled, shutting his eyes, “Office hours are closed, check back Tuesday.”

Over three years and some change being sober, he’d learned how to more or less deal with the ghosts. Was it easy? No. There were always some particularly gruesome assholes that looked like roadkill and made him want to throw up. He couldn’t always get the screaming to stop, despite getting a better handle on banishing the damn things if he really needed to. They still sobbed, they still got pissed at him, etcetera, etcetera.

But, much to his dismay, dad and everyone else who’d ever nagged him(Ben) had a point when they talked about facing his fears. Coexisting with the ghosts. Talking with them and helping them along if they weren’t complete assholes. Ugh.

He heard a snort and opened his eyes, peering up into the darkness of his hat in mild confusion.

“I, uh,” The ghost said, “I think I’m good for now, prophet.”

Klaus poked the brim of his cowboy hat, slowly raising it so he could see the ghost standing in front of him. 

And there he was.

“Dave.” Klaus whispered, slowly removing his boots from the desk and shoving his chair back so he could stand. Both hands raised to cover his mouth as he stared at the ghost in front of him.

It was him. His Dave. Finally. Old enough now, experienced, lacking the boyish look in his eye and the cheery disposition of his teens, having gone through hell in the war and then having not come back. Except.. Except something was off.

“Klaus.” The ghost greeted cordially. Which was weird. This was not the teary, heartfelt reunion he’d expected when he finally, finally summoned his boyfriend. He had to physically stop himself from launching himself at the man.

“Dave.” He repeated, moving out from behind the desk and looking his beloved up and down. It was Dave, beyond a shadow of a doubt, but… “Dave?  _ Dave _ .”

Where were the standard green army fatigues? Where was the  _ bloody hole _ in his chest? 

“That’s my name. Three- four times now.” The ghost gave him a tight smile, lifting a hand. “Long time no see, prophet.” Dave said, looking around the room and scuffing his ethereal combat boots on the carpet, one Allison and Luther had nearly had a fistfight picking out. 

As he examined his surroundings, his brow furrowed in a way that was so impeccably  _ Dave _ that Klaus had to choke down a dry sob he didn’t know was coming. “I gotta say, man, you got some details right, but..”

It finally clicked as he took in his appearance. “Oh shit. You’re not standard army.” Klaus muttered from behind his hands, looking up and down and cataloging the differences, “I know that uniform. You’re a marine. Fuck.  _ Fuck _ . I fucked it up.”

“Well,” Dave sucked in a breath through his teeth, even though it was mostly for show. He was dead, after all, “I don’t know about _ that _ , but I’m a Marine, yes.” A pause. “Was, I should say.”

“No, no, no,” Klaus raised his hands, gripping at long wavy hair, “I shouldn’t have told you- Ben was right, it was a mistake-- I made you enlist early. I fucked up the timeline.  _ Damn _ it, I  _ hate _ when Five is right--”

“Timeline, sure,” Dave repeated, undoubtedly confused, “And I’ve got questions about the, um, seeing ghosts thing?” He asked, “Because I’m definitely dead and you’re definitely talking to me, but I’m.. pretty sure you’re alive.” He looked around the room again. “And I.. also have this wild suspicion that we aren’t in the sixties anymore.”

Klaus ran his hands down his face, peeking out between his fingers mournfully. “I have some explaining to do.” He admitted, quiet, “I’ll explain it all. But can I just ask..” He took off his cowboy hat and held it in one hand, his other hand gripping the ever-present dog tags around his neck.

“Was I there?” Klaus breathed.

Dave frowned. Looked down. Shook his head.

“Oh.” Klaus whispered, his voice cracking. “Oh.”

“The last time I saw you was at your mansion.” Dave said quietly, as if he was sorry to disappoint, “Early 1960’s. But I’ve- I’ve thought about you ever since. I kinda wondered if you’d ever show up.”

“I wasn’t there, though.” Klaus repeated numbly. “In Vietnam. You still have no idea who I really am.”

Dave tried for a smile, his expression tight. “I guess not.” He replied slowly, “But I’ve got all the time in the world to hear you out now, don’t I?” He took a cautious step forward. “I've been thinking about what you told me for years, sir. _Years_. I think we should start with why you have dog tags with my name on them that- that shouldn’t exist. Because I wasn’t in the.. What was it.. the 170?”

“The 173rd Airborne Brigade.” Klaus supplied, his voice sounding hollow.

“Okay.” Dave nodded, “And man, I was nowhere near that hill. So..” He tilted his head imploringly, “Can we talk, prophet?”

Klaus nodded and ducked his head as he put his hat back on, a small tear slipping down his cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> texan here. we're all in on cowboy klaus. yee and haw.
> 
> title is from [I've Got Spurs That] Jingle, Jangle, Jingle, a real bop of an old country song and definitely the song klaus is humming along to.
> 
> i guess im just doing some rambling and introspection and whatnot while also addressing that DAVE IS A MARINE NOW AND PROBABLY NEVER MET KLAUS! BIG YIKES! its fine, ill fix it. its what i do.
> 
> might turn THIS into a multichapter or a series because i like the idea of this ghost slowly getting to know klaus and falling in love again... but i need to finish my other wips, dont i? but hey, let me know if youd read about marine!ghost dave having a slow burn with the cowboy whos already head over spurs for him. YEEHAW.
> 
> let me know what you think, i always appreciate feedback!!! thanks for the read <3 ill be over on tumblr at @karturtle. ive really been on my bullshit these past few days.


End file.
